Soul Returns to Hong Kong: From Tailor Shop to Richest Woman

The minute hand of the wall clock in the living room had moved precisely to the number four.

Lin Ying closed the pen cap directly. "Alright, it's 4:30. That's all for today."

Su Jun immediately slumped down, letting out a long breath; all afternoon, ever since he had spent thirty yuan to buy an hour and a half of nap time, Lin Ying had pressed him down on the table and spent a full hour and a half going over and over the mixed application problems and English reading comprehension questions for all subjects in the third grade.

For every question he got wrong, I'd explain it; after explaining, I'd make him copy down the thought process again. By the last half hour, he didn't even have the energy to secretly roll his eyes anymore; his mind was completely focused on numbers.

Lin Ying gathered the exercise books on the table and glanced at the last page; the handwriting was still terrible, but at least the logic of the steps was no longer seriously flawed.

"The afternoon was more efficient than the morning," she gave an objective assessment.

Su Jun held his head and reluctantly reached into the living room drawer, pulled out a slightly crumpled HK$100 bill, and slapped it on the table with a few hesitations.

"Here, that's a hundred yuan for tutoring," Su Jun muttered. "My dad promised, he won't renege on his debts."

Lin Ying ignored his tone and immediately picked up the money and put it away. She had earned 130 yuan that day.

In her past life, the medical funds in her account were cold, hard numbers, but she never felt a sense of control over them. For the first time in this life, she earned the money herself, penny by penny.

The first transaction completed the closed loop.

Lin Ying slung her backpack over her shoulder, stood up, and looked at Su Jun, who was slumped in the chair.

"Classes are over for this week. Study hard, improve your grades, and then we'll make some money."

"Make money?" Su Jun, who was rubbing his aching wrists, immediately flared up his spoiled brat attitude upon hearing those two words. "What money do I need to make? My dad has plenty of money! He manages so many shops in Kowloon City, and now he's making movies! Why would I need to make money?"

Lin Ying suddenly asked, "Are you an only child?"

"Huh?" Su Jun was taken aback by the question. "Of course not! I have an older brother! Su Cheng!"

"That settles it then." Lin Ying nodded. "You're not an only child. If you don't earn some money yourself, you'll just be relying on your dad to slip through your fingers for pocket money every day."

While adjusting her backpack straps, Lin Ying added the most fatal second half of her sentence: "For the sake of your allowance, I'll tell you the truth: your dad is only in his early thirties, and he's doing really well outside; now he's involved in movies too. What if he finds love again before the new year and brings you a young and beautiful stepmother? What will you and your brother do then?"

Su Jun's eyes widened instantly.

Lin Ying didn't give him a chance to speak: "What if your stepmother comes in and has two more obedient little brothers who always get perfect scores on their exams? They'll know how to be spoiled, and your stepmother will whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Do you think Old Dou's fortune will flow to him? Will there still be a place for you, the young master who always gets the lowest score, in this family?"

"I..." Su Jun's face turned green on the spot.

A terrifying image uncontrollably flashed through his mind: Old Dou was arm in arm with a heavily made-up woman, holding a baby in his arms, pointing at him and his older brother Su Cheng who had been kicked out of the house and cursing them as scoundrels, and then giving all the sports cars, houses and money to that kid in diapers!

Su Jun was so shocked by this series of real-life images that he was completely flustered, and cold sweat streamed down his forehead.

"Your father's money will always be your father's. Whoever has the ability can put it in their own pocket." After saying this, Lin Ying looked at Su Jun, who was completely petrified on the spot.

"See you next week," she said, then turned and left without looking back.

Su Jun: "..."

It’s over.

The more I think about it, the more likely it seems.

-----

As dusk fell, Lin Ying took the tram back to Yu Fat Building in Sai Wan.

At home, Lin Lanying was busy in the kitchen, He Dazhu was washing clothes, and Lin Qian was doing addition and subtraction at a small table.

As soon as Lin Ying entered the room, she put down her schoolbag, unzipped the innermost zipper, and took out the 130 yuan she had received that day, placing it on the table.

"I got all my tutoring fees back today."

"Sister, you're so sharp!" Lin Qian's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Lin Lanying came out of the kitchen but didn't touch the money immediately. She walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down. "You told me before that going to other people's homes wasn't just for tutoring; what was it then?"

Although the Lin family was short of money, they would never let their children take reckless risks for money.

Lin Ying didn't hide anything and recounted the agreement she had reached with Su Zhihao at the Su family dinner table during the day. She didn't want any initial payment, only a share of the box office revenue after the film's release; next Sunday, she would be handing in the first five scenes and the script outline.

He Dazhu was stunned: "Sister, write a movie and have someone make it? This...this is really possible?"

Lin Lanying's concern was more direct: "This must be extremely demanding! Won't it interfere with your studies? You have three computer classes and two math olympiad classes next week, and your workload in São Paulo is already heavy!"

Not wanting her family to worry, Lin Ying explained, "Mommy, it won't interfere with my studies. I took this role not only for the money, but also to make up for my weaknesses."

"In my last monthly exam, the only subject I didn't get a perfect score on was Chinese. I don't lack general knowledge or arithmetic skills; my weakest point is my vocabulary and sense of language in Chinese. Writing a movie script requires character development, writing a lot of local dialogue, and describing scenes. This kind of high-intensity writing can actually improve my Chinese the fastest. It is, in itself, the highest level of subject."

These words reassured the parents' worries and tied "making money" and "studying" together on an inseparable line.

Lin Lanying understood her daughter well; ever since she regained consciousness, she had thought through everything in her mind a thousand times over and never made a mistake.

"Alright." Lin Lanying finally nodded. "Since you can practice your studies, then go ahead and write; but there's one condition: if you get too tired while writing at night, stop anytime. The family isn't short of money for your hard work, understand?"

"Yes, Mommy," Lin Ying replied softly.

At night, only a dim incandescent light illuminated Lin Ying's small room. Lin Ying sat at her old desk, packed all her St. Paul's textbooks into her schoolbag, and pulled out a stack of yellowed blank manuscript paper, placing it in front of her.

She took a deep breath, her mind quickly replaying the state of the Hong Kong film market in the early 1980s; the hard-hitting action of the Bruce Lee era was gradually fading, and traditional martial arts films were causing audiences to become aesthetically fatigued; and Su Zhihao, who wanted to make quick money and grab the attention of theater audiences in the shortest amount of time, had to have a strong sense of novelty.

At the very top of the first page, Lin Ying wrote down several key words in bold:

[A kind-hearted person who faints at the sight of blood], [Reborn as a zombie], [Ghost encounter], [Action], [Comedy].

The box office hit is created by the stark contrast and dark humor of throwing a cowardly, blood-phobic, honest man into the most sinister and deadly trap.

Lin Ying wrote the title for this script: "Death in the Light".